Back to School
by Shorina
Summary: Lewis and Hathaway have to attend courses for professional development. However, they both need a little help with their respective classes.
1. Chapter 1

This story was written for the prompt "a classroom" at the story_lottery on livejournal.

**Disclaimer:** The characters of Lewis, Hathaway, and Superintendent Innocent belong to Colin Dexter and/or ITV. I merely borrow them for this story which is making me no money.

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Detective Sergeant Hathaway cast a quick glance at his Inspector's reading material as he set two cups of coffee down on the outside table of the little café they had chosen for their lunch break.

"I take it you still haven't decided on a course for professional development then?"

Lewis looked up from the list of classes he had been studying and sighed. "No. I still have no idea what any of these courses have to do with my profession."

"Widen your horizon?" Hathaway sat down opposite Lewis.

"What are you going to widen your horizon with then?"

"Digital photography," came the prompt reply as Hathaway comfortably leaned back in his chair, placing his sunglasses over his eyes. It was a perfect spring day.

Lewis nodded. "Ah." He picked up his cup but found the liquid too hot to drink and put it down again.

"What did you short-list?"

"Short-list? Nothing really, though a cooking course sounds like I might at least get a proper dinner if I already can't get home on time. But Innocent's been hinting at the creative writing course."

"I'm sure she'd be very impressed with more creativity in our reports," Hathaway commented with a totally blank face.

"Very funny, Sergeant."

Hathaway looked at him, his face still a blank mask. "You know, you once told me I called you _Sir_ when I get mean. You call me _Sergeant_ on such occasions."

"Well, good you worked that one out. I'm sure being aware of it will help our understanding along a great deal, Sergeant." Lewis picked up his cup again and blew on the hot beverage it contained.

"Oh, I'm absolutely convinced of it, Sir."

Lewis glared at him over the rim of the cup but didn't comment any further on the subject.


	2. Chapter 2

one week later

"Care to go for a pint?" Hathaway asked on their way out of the Kidlington office.

"Can't. I haven't managed to write a single word for that damn class and I'm supposed to have a draft by tomorrow evening. Why did I let Innocent talk me into taking the creative writing class? It seems to be full of women who've been writing stories for years. Plus I'm the only man around!"

"You make me doubt my choice of class. The only man among a lot of women – how bad can it be?"

Lewis glanced at his partner. "They're all too old for you, James."

"The better for you then, Sir." Hathaway couldn't quite keep a smirk off his face. When Lewis didn't seem to find his comment very funny, he turned serious again. "Can I help?"

Lewis considered the offer for a moment before replying. "You don't happen to have a stunning idea for a story and the talent to write it?"

"I might, but it'd be cheating if I wrote a story for you. Writing about something you know usually is a good idea."

"What – am I supposed to write a detective story? I'm not sure it'd be well received in this class and I'm not sure all the paper- and legwork would make for very interesting reading. Also - I've seen the books some of the women had with them. Love and lust all around."

Suddenly an idea popped up in Hathaway's mind and he stopped dead in his tracks as he considered it. "I think we might be able to help each other with our classes..."

Lewis stopped, too. "How?"

"I can help you to write a story that should be fairly well received in your class."

"Go on," Lewis said. That part of helping each other sounded good.

"Actually I need a model for my photography class, maybe you could..."

Lewis abruptly turned away. "No way."

But Hathaway strode after him. "Would you at least hear me out before you refuse?"

Lewis stopped again with a sigh. "OK, have your say and I'll say no again then."

"We'll see. I would like to do a series of shots showing emotions, facial expressions. And I don't mean this as an insult, but you have one of the most animated faces I have ever encountered. If you'd just agree to let me take photos of you, your face, for the next few weeks, I'll help you with your story in exchange."

Lewis looked at him in surprise. It wasn't what he had expected when Hathaway had said the word 'model'. How bad could that be? Well, it probably depended on which expressions Hathaway wanted to capture on film, no, on a memory card. Digital photography. "Under one condition."

"Which one?"

"Nothing making me appear in a bad light."

"I would never..."

"Oh, I'm sure you would, Sergeant. That's why I'm saying it."

Hathaway scowled at him for a moment at the implied mistrust. "I mean it, I wouldn't. So that condition is fine with me. Deal?"

Lewis sighed. "Deal."

"Good, let's go for a pint then and discuss your story. And maybe I'll get a good 'thoughtful' picture..."

Lewis threw him a half-annoyed look. A part of him was regretting this deal already, but another part was glad to get some help with his not yet existent story.


	3. Chapter 3

two days later

"Say cheese," Hathaway said instead of a greeting when Lewis entered their shared office.

Lewis looked confused for a moment before realizing that Hathaway had his digital camera in hand. He offered his Sergeant a very fake smile. "Give me a chance to wake up before you start snapping away, Sergeant?"

Hathaway heard the undertone in Lewis's voice on the last word and lowered the camera. Upsetting the Inspector first thing in the morning was no good idea so he quickly changed the topic. "How did it go last night?"

"OK I suppose. It felt weird to stand in that classroom and present the draft to this lot of lecherous housewives."

"I take it they didn't rip it apart?"

"Surprisingly, no."

Hathaway leaned back, contentedly folding his arms over his chest. "I hate to say it, Sir, but I told you so."

Lewis sat on the corner of his desk. "Yeah. I have to admit I hadn't expected it."

"So, what's due for next week?"

"A first chapter. I can't believe I'm supposed to write 10,000 words all in all."

"But you've got a story you know by heart so it shouldn't be too difficult."

"I sure hope so." Lewis stared out of the window as he thought about his story. Hathaway really had had a very good idea there. He might actually be able to write this story and make it credible. The sudden flash of Hathaway's camera brought him back to the here and now. He rubbed his eyes, trying to rid himself of the colourful spots the flash had left dancing on his retinas. With a sigh he got up and walked around his desk. "Let's try to get some work done." His gaze lingered on the photo of him and Valerie for a moment before he sat down and opened the file someone had placed on his desk.


	4. Chapter 4

next Sunday

"Thanks for coming, Jim," Lewis said when he let Hathaway into his flat.

"No problem. But you might consider just mailing me the text next time. In contrast to you, I have a computer at home."

Lewis rolled his eyes at him as Hathaway strode past him towards the living room. "Well, I don't. It's bad enough I have to type it at work, I don't need to have it go through the email filter there, too."

"OK, you got a point there." Hathaway dropped down in what had by and by become his usual place on Lewis's sofa. "So, let's see your first chapter," he said, rubbing his hands in anticipation.

Lewis picked up his printouts from the kitchen counter but held them out of reach of the younger man's hands. "Don't laugh!"

Hathaway's face turned blank. "I never laugh, Sir."

Lewis glared at him. "Never? Might actually be true. I don't remember seeing you laugh openly in months, Sergeant."

"See?" Hathaway still held out his hand for the printouts and Lewis reluctantly handed them over and sat beside his Sergeant as the younger man began to read. He soon found it too unnerving and got up again, looking around for something to do. He finally remembered his good manners and headed for the kitchen to put the kettle on.

"Tea?" He called in Hathaway's direction.

"Oh yes, please," came the reply. And was that the click of a ballpoint pen Lewis heard? He felt a bit like his teacher was grading his test. If Hathaway marked it in red... he didn't want to think too closely about what he would to.

By the time he returned to the living room with two cups of tea, Hathaway was done. Lewis didn't ask. He just handed Hathaway his tea and sat down again. They drank in silence.

"Well, as it seems you won't ask, I'll just start," Hathaway said, putting his empty cup down.

Lewis stiffened instinctively.

"You're off to a good start there, I think. I could imagine the setting and the excited mood in the hall from what you wrote."

Lewis relaxed a little. That didn't sound too bad.

Hathaway laid the two pages of Lewis's chapter side by side and pointed to a paragraph he had marked. "You've suddenly switched tenses here," he pointed to some underlined words, "and there you've messed up your syntax a bit. You probably ended that sentence differently from the way you had begun."

Lewis looked at the sentence and furrowed his brow. "Oh yeah, I hadn't noticed that. I swear I proofread it twice and didn't catch it."

Hathaway shrugged. "Happens. You know what you intended to write so your brain reads it correctly, not the way it's on the paper."

Lewis looked at Hathaway. "So, what else?"

"Nothing."

"Just those two bits?"

"Yup."

Lewis was surprised. He had feared his well educated Sergeant would rip his little scene to pieces.

"So you think it's good?"

"I think that's what I said."


	5. Chapter 5

four weeks later

It was the Sunday before both Hathaway and Lewis were supposed to present their final works to their respective classes. Their Sunday meetings already seemed like some sort of routine. Hathaway came over to proofread Lewis's latest writing and they sat and chatted for an hour or two afterwards until they both became hungry and went for lunch at a close by pub from where they both went their separate ways again.

But this Sunday, there was a certain excitement hanging in the air. So far, Hathaway had strictly refused to let Lewis see any of the photos he had taken. But today he would bring some of the best along to give Lewis a final say in which ones he could present in class. It would also be the first time that Lewis would read his now finished story out loud. Hathaway had had a hard time talking him into it, but in the end Lewis had agreed that it was a good idea to have a test-run with the reading. It was a long time since he had last read to his kids and it was different from conducting an interview with a suspect or giving evidence in court, too. It was a lot more personal, especially with the story he had written.

Now they were sitting in Lewis's living room, both with some sense of nervous anticipation but neither man making a move to start with what they were meeting up for. They had finished their first round of tea and had been dancing around the topic of their classes for at least half an hour when Lewis couldn't stand the atmosphere any longer.

"You know, you read my story already. I think it's only fair if you start. Let's see what you got in your briefcase," he got to the point.

Hathaway was a bit nervous, not too sure how Lewis would react to the shots. He had picked twelve, the final set he had to present in class would consist of eight. And though they were digital photos, they had to be printed.

"I suppose it is." He reached for his briefcase and took out the small stack of photos, slowly spreading them out over Lewis's table. He didn't have the nerve to check for Lewis's reaction so he just stared at the black and white pictures on the table.

Lewis, on the other hand, watched in disbelief as he looked at photo after photo of himself. It was him all right. Still, he had a weird sense of alienation. Did he really look like that? All these facial expressions were his? It was his face, still he wondered when Hathaway had taken all these. What had brought that expression on his face? What had he been laughing about there? And the next one – he looked angry in it. What had upset him? He hadn't been aware of his emotions playing out that much on his face and he was at a loss for words as he looked at himself in the pictures.

At least Hathaway had kept his promise, there was no picture that put him in a bad light. Once he studied them a bit closer, he was rather surprised by how good the shots were. Hathaway definitely had some talent for photography. Letting out a small sigh, he sat back. "Wow."

"Sir?" Eventually, Hathaway looked up at the Inspector, trying to figure out if 'wow' was good or bad. Lewis looked... astonished?

The Inspector sensed the gaze upon himself, so he turned his head. For the first time that day, their eyes met. "It's weird to see myself like that – twelve times over."

Hathaway forced himself not to look away as he waited for Lewis to say something that would label the pictures as either good or bad beyond doubt. But Lewis didn't. His eyes fell back onto the pictures. "So, how many of these do we need to pick?"

"Eight."

"OK, so four to sort out...," Lewis leaned forward again and Hathaway copied the move.

"I quite like that one. And this has an interesting contrast. What light did you take that in?"

So his pictures weren't all bad! Hathaway nearly sighed with relief, but only nearly. He was fighting to control his emotions too badly to actually do it. Instead he focused on the photograph Lewis was pointing at. "Uhm, I think that was in the garden of the Trout Inn on the canal. It must have been the sun reflecting off the water that created the light."

Lewis nodded. "Right, I remember now. It was a sunny day all right."

They talked about the photographs a while longer and half an hour later Hathaway had his set of eight photographs, eight moods reflected on Lewis's face. And he had to give it to Lewis, he had not so much picked the photographs for the way he looked in them, but had picked out those that had some interesting lighting or contrast, a profile view, a front view... it was a good variety.

"Well, your turn then, Sir."

Lewis sighed. "Best to just get over with it I suppose."

"Absolutely."

Lewis picked up the folder with his printouts which had been lying on the sofa besides him and opened it. Just when he was about to start, Hathaway interrupted him.

"I think you should read it standing. I suppose you'll be standing in front of the class when you present it, so you should be standing now, too."

Lewis didn't like the idea much but again had to agree with his Sergeant. He got up and cleared his throat.

"'The Addiction began at Midnight', written by Robert Lewis..."

Hathaway sat and listened intently to Lewis's reading of the story of Reggie and Vicky, two young people who meet at a rock concert. A story of love at first sight, a happy story. The story they way Lewis read it to him now sounded different from the way he had read it himself before. He had considered the story quite good for a love story when he had read it, but now it was captivating. The way Lewis read it, it had passion, a lot of it! He remained quiet for a while after Lewis had finished, causing the Inspector to throw him a worried look.

"I know it doesn't happen often, but I am at a loss for words, Sir."

"That bad?" Lewis asked worriedly.

"Bad? You must be joking. The 'lecherous housewives' will be hanging on your lips!"

A smile was ever so slightly tugging on the older man's lips but he fought it by rolling his eyes at Hathaway who grinned openly at him in return. Maybe, just maybe, his idea for the story had made Lewis a bit happier, remembering good times rather than brooding about his loss all the time.


End file.
